


The Fine Art of Compromise

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-23
Updated: 2005-06-23
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS THROUGH 507.  Post-507 fic that has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of Season 5.





	The Fine Art of Compromise

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian won the bet. 

The competition had been stiffer – pun definitely intended – than he had expected, but in the end his prowess paid off. Former tricks who knew he was a hot fuck were more than willing to be numbered in the few who got to do Brian Kinney more than once.

So Brian won the bet, and won the right to fuck Brendan. Or Brandon. Or whatever the fuck his name was. 

But what’s his name wasn’t the blond that Brian wanted in his bed. He sent Blondie off without so much as a handjob, the words he had spoken to Ted just a short time before tumbling around in his brain: it’s a rare man who’d rather get even than get laid. But it wasn’t about getting even. Not really. He just wasn’t interested.

 

* * * * *

 

He saw him everywhere. At the diner, on the street, even at the Thai place near the loft. Justin was everywhere - everywhere but Babylon – or in the home they once shared. 

He was always there. His scent was still on the pillow, or at least it seems so to Brian; the images that scent conjures were so strong, so brutal that Brian went back to sleeping on the futon. Justin’s belongings – a few of them – still took up space in random areas of the loft. He was there in his friends’ concern, and in Gus’ innocent “Where’s Jus’in?”

He dreamed of Justin. Sometimes he dreamed of the past. Sometimes of the future that might have been – a future where Justin stayed by Brian’s side while he continued trying to hang on to his youth and his glory, where he didn’t mind Brian’s tricking, and where he didn’t want to live the happy hetero lifestyle. Occasionally he had nightmares about the future that might have been if he had given in and lived that lifestyle. 

And then one night the dream was of a different future. When Brian woke, he sat for a long time in the dark, thinking, before going to find Justin.

* * * * *

Justin was more than a little surprised to find Brian standing in the doorway of his shitty apartment at five in the morning. He didn’t even know Brian knew where he lived. For that matter, he didn’t even know that Brian cared where he lived. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stepped aside and asked Brian if he wanted to come inside. Brian looked around the apartment with something akin to horror in his eyes, but he entered nevertheless.

For a moment, Brian looked uncertain. “How’ve you been?” he asked.

“You came here at five in the morning to make small talk?” Justin asked. When Brian gave him a look, Justin shrugged one shoulder. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” He paused, then added, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Brian replied automatically. He shook his head slightly and took a deep breath. “That’s a lie,” he said flatly. “I haven’t been worth a shit since you left.” He turned to face Justin, both determination and terror etched on his face. “I miss you, and I want you to come home.”

“Brian…” Justin began, but Brian cut him off.

“I know what you’re going to say. That we’ve been over this. And that we want different things. Well, I don’t think that’s true.”

“But…”

“Everything else aside,” Brian said, cutting Justin off again, “do you want to be with me?”

Justin looked into Brian’s eyes, searching, for what he doesn’t know. “Yes,” he answered at last.

“I want that, too,” Brian said quietly.

“What about the rest of it?” Justin asked. “We still want completely different things. I want….”

“A home. A husband. A family,” Brian recited. “I know.”

“And you don’t. Those are things you can’t…won’t…give me.”

Brian scrubbed his face with one hand. “What if I could?” he asked quietly. “What if I did?”

“You shouldn’t have to change to try to make me happy,” Justin said, letting his hand rest on Brian’s upper arm in a familiar gesture of comfort and affection. “And I shouldn’t have to change, either. That’s not love.”

A humorless smile lifted the corners of Brian’s mouth. “What romance novel did you read that in?” Before Justin could reply, he continued. “Look, I know I’ve always said I don’t believe in love or romance or any of that shit, but – believe it or not – I’ve actually learned a thing or two about relationships from people like Mikey and Linds. And I’ve learned a lot about people in general; that’s kind of an important thing in my line of work.

“One of the most important lessons I ever learned in the business world is the fine art of compromise. How to make two people or companies that can’t see eye-to-eye meet somewhere in the middle. For some reason, I just never realized that the same concept could be applied to...my personal life.”

Justin stood quietly for a moment, taking in all that Brian had said. “You’re comparing our relationship to a business deal.”

Brian, wisely, did not reply.

“Compromise, huh?” Justin asked at length. “What did you have in mind?”

Brian took a deep breath, steeling himself, and let it out slowly. “All the legal documents, but no wedding,” he said, with only a slight roll of his eyes at the mention of the “W” word. “A house, if you really want one, but…not in Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood.”

“What about a family?”

With a deep sigh, Brian turned away. “There’s Gus,” he said at last. “I’m still not sure, but…. You’re --we are still young. Maybe later on. Maybe,” he said, shaking his head. He had known all along that this would be the deal breaker. Still, he had hoped.

For long moments, silence reigned inside Justin’s ramshackle apartment. Brian fidgeted, afraid to turn and see whatever expression might be Justin’s face. Then he felt warm, firm hands running up his back to gently knead his shoulders.

“I’ll think about it,” Justin said quietly.

“That’s more than I expected,” Brian said.

Justin squeezed Brian’s shoulders one more time and then dropped his hands. “I will think about it. Tomorrow. Right now, I’m going back to bed,” he said, turning toward one of the few pieces of furniture he had, scavenged from his room in his mother’s condo.

“Right. I’ll just…”

Justin turned to look back. “Well, are you coming? Or Going?”

Brian stared for a moment, his mouth slightly open in surprise. Slowly a grin spread across his face. He took a step toward Justin, who took a step back toward him. A few steps each and they were standing in the middle of the rundown apartment not quite touching, the noise from outside rattling the windows. Brian lifted one hand and reverently touched Justin’s cheek. “Coming and staying,” he whispered.


End file.
